Spring Returning
by fir8008
Summary: The stars, too, they tell of spring returning." My version of Spring Awakening with a focus on Moritz/OC, Hanschen/Ersnt, and implied Melchior/Wendla. This sounds better than the summary, so R&R!
1. Mama Who Bore Me

**Wow, it has been a looooooooong time since I've written/uploaded anything. So, this is my take on Spring Awakening with my OC, Diana, who I wrote of in 'She Walks in Beauty.' So, please read an enjoy! (BTW, this is the Mama Who Bore Me scene)**

Diana's POV

You stare at your pale reflection in the mirror. A petite girl stares back, with ivory skin and dark hair. Small, delicate hands wander over the thin white dress that covers the body that makes you wonder so.

The door suddenly opens and you turn around quickly, hands flying away from your body.

Your mother, a beautiful, imposing woman, stands in the doorway. "Diana!" she scolds, giving you the family's signature Rilow Glare that has made your family infamous in your village. "Why are you wearing that kindergarten dress?"

"Oh, Mother! Let me wear it. Frau Bergman is permitting Wendla to wear her old dresses." You beg.

Mother snorts. "Frau Bergman is foolish to let her girl run wild like she does. People will start to talk."

You press your lips together to keep from shouting at your mother. What right does she have to criticize Frau Bergman? _She's_ not a fabulous mother either, you think spitefully.

"Well, your scanty appearance made me forget our good news! Your cousin, Anja, has had another baby! The stork brought her a lovely little boy." Mother moves on to new topics.

"Oh, I can't wait to see her, Mother." You say enthusiastically.

"Well then put on a proper dress, child."

You pause at your wardrobe. "Mother, don't be angry with me, please don't. But Anja has had two children, and one day I will too, but I have no idea how it happens!"

"Diana, you could not possibly think…" Mother sputters.

"Mother you cannot possibly believe I still believe in the stork!" you protest.

"Diana, I have no idea what I've done to deserve this. Go child, put your clothes on." Mother says angrily.

"How about if I run out now and ask Aleit, our maid?" you threaten. The horror of going to someone below your mother's status to ask about how babies are made is enough to make her think.

"Fine, I will tell you. But not today, some other day."

"_Now_, Mother." You press.

"Diana Rilow, you'll be the death of me!"

"Why? I'll kneel at your feet and bury my head in your skirt so you can speak as if I wasn't even there." You offer.

You kneel and rest your head on your mother's lap. You wait. No sound comes from your mother's mouth. "Mother," you say.

"Diana, I…"

"Mother."

"Well, for a woman to conceive a child, firstly you must be married. Secondly, you must love your husband with your whole… heart." She pats you head. "Now you know everything."

"Everything?" you challenge.

"Everything." Your mother confirms.

"Mother!" you exclaim.

**This will be continued.**


	2. Latin Class and Sky Blue Stockings

**Chapter 2! Thank you demactica for replying to the last chapter.**

**Moritz's POV**

"Herr Stiefel!"

"Sir!?" you cry out, jerked from your reverie.

"Continue. Please. Herr Stiefel…" Herr Sonnenstich growls.

"_Lavinique… venit… litora…multum… enim…_" you recite falteringly.

"'_Enim_?'" Herr Sonnenstich glares at you.

"_Olim_?" you offer.

"'Olim!?'" Herr Sonnenstich begins ranting about Pious Aeneas until Melchior Gabor comes to your defense.

"If you please!" he interjects.

"Pardon me?" Herr Sonnenstich bristles.

The two of them begin to argue and debate textual conjectures while you stand there, struck dumb. You only begin paying attention again when Herr Sonnenstich whacks Melchior with his ruler. He then commands the class to recite the Latin. "_Litora multum ille…_"

The class finishes the recitation and Herr Sonnenstich has you and the other boys write the next seven lines of Pious Aeneas's journey from memory. You lean over and whisper: "Thank you, Melchi."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"Still, I'm sorry. You didn't need to…" you insist.

Melchior cuts you off. "Think about what Aeneas suffered."

"But I should've known it! '_Multum ille_.' It's just… I didn't sleep all night. In fact I suffered from the most horrific dark phantasm." You stutter.

"You mean a dream?" Melchior asks knowingly.

"Indeed!" you nod your head vigorously. "Legs in sky blue stockings climbing over the lecture podium. Have you ever suffered such mortifying visions?"

"Of course, Moritz. We all have. Otto Lammermier dreamt of his mother. And Georg Zirschnitz? Dreamt he was seduced by his piano teacher!" Melchior tells you.

You squeak, "Fraulein Grossebustenhalter!?" louder than you should and Herr Sonnenstich grabs you by the ear.

"Moritz Stiefel! I need hardly remind you that, out of all our pupils, you are in no position to be taking liberties. I will not warn you again? Am I clear?"

You nod, absolutely petrified.

He turns away from you and to the class. "Gentlemen, turn in your verses and clear away your personal effects. I will see you tomorrow, seven AM." With that, he walks out of the room.

"Well, I'm off." Otto says with a slight nod.

"Me too," Ernst Robel, a dark, thin, scrawny boy whom you compete with for bottom of the class with, says.

"I'll walk with you Ernst." Hanschen Rilow, a tall, imposing, blonde boy offers.

Ernst looks surprised. "You will?"

Hanschen raises one eyebrow. "Why, yes. We'll huddle over the Homer, maybe do a little Achilles and Patroclus." And leads Ernst away.

"Good night, Melchior; Moritz." Georg nods.

"Home to Bach?" Melchior asks.

Georg nods and shivers. "Fraulein Grossebustenhalter will not be kept waiting."

Melchior smiles and winks at you but you wave it away. "_Mein Gott_, Melchi!" you cry. "Sixty lines of Homer, all those quadric equations, and I'll be up all night being haunted by another one of those… _dreams._ And I still won't get through it." You grab wildly at the lapels of Melchior's blazer. "Melchi! Why, why, _why _am I haunted by the legs of that woman? Does some dark part of my destiny lie between them?"

Melchior pats your arm. "Don't worry. I'll tell you about it. I got it out of books. But I warn you: it made an atheist out of me. So…"

You wave your arms in his face. "No! Not here! I can't talk of it. Melchi, write it down for me… in an essay. Put it in my satchel after gymnastics tomorrow. If you want you can add drawings in the margins."

"Top to bottom?" Melchior asks.

"_Everything_."

**More to come. :)**


	3. My Junk is You

**Hello! Thanks to demactica and Chalcedony Rivers for replying last chapter.**

**Diana's POV**

The girls and I walk down the bridge while Thea chatters about the dress she'll be wearing to Greta Brandenburg's wedding.

"The bodice is all in lace and there's a satin bow in back!"

Anna turns to Wendla. "And what will you be wearing to Greta's wedding, Wendla?"

"Mama said we cannot go." She replied sadly.

"Not go?" I gasped.

"To Greta's wedding?" Anna asked.

"Because she's marrying that forest inspector?" Martha asked grimly.

"Mama felt it was a little improper." Wendla explained.

"But the sanctuary is going to be decked in orchids and chrysanthemums!" Anna protested.

"Mama said no." Wendla sighs.

"Well," I said. "I certainly hope your mama approves of the man I marry."

Thea put a hand over her heart. "And the man I marry!"

"Well we all know who Thea longs to marry!" Wendla said teasingly.

"Melchior Gabor!" Martha sing-songed.

"Who doesn't?" Thea asked.

"He is rather handsome," Anna replied.

"And _so_ wonderful," Wendla gushed.

Martha got a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. "But not so wonderful as that sad, soulful sleepyhead Moritz Stiefel…"

Anna and Thea exchanged a look. "Moritz Stiefel?" they asked incredulously.

"How can you even compare them?" Anna asked.

"Melchi Gabor, he's such a radical!" Thea added flipping one braid over her shoulder. "Do you know what the whisper is?" We all lean in to hear. "He doesn't believe in anything. Not in God. Not in Heaven. Not in a single thing in this world!"

We all gasp in wonder.

"They say he's the best in everything." Anna adds. "Latin, Greek, trigonometry…"

"And he doesn't give a fig about any of it." Wendla finishes.

We plop down in the grass.

"He's so dreamy." Thea sighs. "Who do you admire, Diana?"

I play with a few blades of grass. "I don't know, Thea. My brother dislikes everyone in his class and unfortunately his opinions tend to tower over my own. Last night he and Ernst were studying at our dining room table. I feel bad for Ernst. My brother must terrify him."

**Hanschen's POV**

You carefully wait until you know everyone else is asleep. You slip into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet seat. You pull a postcard out of your pocket, Correggio's_ Io_, and your other hand slips under your nightshirt. You begin to recite _Othello_: "Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona? You don't look like you're praying, darling. Lying there, contemplating the coming bliss…"

A hard knocking on the door makes your gut clench and your hand retreat. It's your father. "Hanschen, are you alright?"

"My stomach again, Father, but I'll be fine." You lie.

"Yes?" he questions.

"Fine," you repeat.

"Well, then," you hear his footfalls go from the door. Your hand retraces its steps.

"Darling," you tell the postcard. "Don't think I take your murder lightly. The truth is, I can hardly bear to think of the long nights ahead. But it's sucking the marrow from my bones, seeing you lying there. Motionless. Staring at me so innocently. One of us must go… it's you, or me."

Yesterday afternoon, you and Ernst were studying together in the vineyard behind the church. You had sat close to him and occasionally touched him subtly, acting as if you merely bumped him. You enjoyed seeing him squirm under your gaze. You could almost hear how hard his heart was pounding. You casually purred the correct trigonometry answers into his ear, making his cheeks burn red. You laid your hand on his thigh, and felt him twitch beneath your touch. You longed to tackle him to the ground and force yourself on him, but you know that waiting will pay off immensely.

Your hand leads you into your fantasies. "Darling? Why, why, do you press your knees together? Even now, on the brink of eternity?" Your voice cracks an octave higher and your hand moves faster. "Don't you see? It's your terrible chastity that's driving me to…"

"_HANSCHEN_!" your father's voice and knocking shatters your Paradise. "That's enough in there! Back to bed!" he roars. You don't move. "Son?"

"One minute…" you say weakly. You hear him walk away. You set to work, thrice as fast as before. "One last kiss. Those soft, white thighs. Those girlish breasts. Oh, those cruel, cruel knees!" Then, suddenly, your body jerks and your hand is wet and sticky. You feel an immense relief wash over you. "_Mein Gott_!" you moan.

A new thought enters your mind: If only you could make Ernst feel this way…

**Diana's POV**

You are walking home, arm in arm, with Anna. You talk idly about your lessons and Greta's wedding, and boys, of course.

"So, you fancy Ernst?" she asks.

"I suppose so." You concede. "He was the only one, besides Hanschen, who didn't try looking up my skirt when we were ten!"

Anna giggles at the memory. "Yes, all the other boys grew up quite destructively. But Ernst was always kind to us. He still played faeries with us after school. Well, now he's too busy trying to better his grades, but he was still lovely company."

"He knows his Bible verses so well. Mother was talking to Frau Robel and she said Ernst is training to be a preacher. I'm sure he'll be a lovely one too." You say.

Anna nods. "And you'll be a lovely bride." She giggles. "Whenever you and Ernst sit together at Sunday School people automatically think you're siblings! When you marry, they'll at least have practice calling you 'Frau Robel.'"

You laugh too. Though it irks you no one recognizes you as a Rilow, you don't mind it very much anymore. Instead you laugh and correct them.

You reach Anna's house first and bid her good night. Then you continue down the little path, with dancing in your steps, toward your own home. You raise you arms and let the breeze play with your loose hair and skirts. As your mother will scoff, you're simply in love with the world.

What's wrong with that?

**More to come. :) Leave me reviews!**


	4. Touch Me, Just Like That

**Chapter 4!**

**Melchior's POV**

Your pen flies across the page of your journal. "Sixteen, October," this page reads. "The question is: Shame. What is its origin? And why are we hounded by its miserable shadow? Does the mare feel Shame as she couples with a stallion? Are they deaf to everything their loins are telling them until we grant them a marriage certificate? I think not. To my mind, Shame is nothing but a product of Education. Meanwhile, old Father Kaulbach still blindly insists, in every single sermon, that Shame is deeply rooted in our sinful Human Nature. Which is why I now refuse to go to Church…"

"Melchior?" your mother calls you and you stop writing.

"Yes, Mama?"

"Moritz Stiefel to see you."

You sit up as Moritz enters your room: pale and looking agitated. "Moritz?"

"Sorry I'm so late," he stammers. "I dashed like some phantom to get here."

"You slept through the day?" you ask.

"I'm exhausted, Melchi! I was up until three in the morning reading that essay of yours until I couldn't see straight." He sits down and I start rolling him a cigarette. "Look at me Melchi, I'm trembling! Last night, I prayed like Christ in Gethsemane, 'Please, God, give me consumption and take these sticky dreams away from me!'"

You snort a laugh. "With any luck he'll ignore that prayer."

He grabs your lapels from across the table. "Melchi! I can't focus on anything! Although I see, and hear, and feel, quite clearly… everything seems so strange."

"But the illustrations, didn't they illuminate your dreams?"

Moritz gets a crazed look in his eyes. "They only multiplied everything ten times! Instead of merely stockings, I am now plagued by Labia Majora and…"

He clamps his mouth shut at the entrance of your mother with her tea tray. "Well, here we are with tea. Herr Stiefel, how are you?" she smiles at your best friend.

"Very well, thank you, Frau Gabor." He replies, all traces of his former craziness vanished.

"Yes?" Mama looks concerned so you invent a quick lie.

"Just think, Mama. Moritz was up all night reading." You tell her.

"Conjugating Greek," Moritz adds.

Mama pats Moritz's hand. "Well, you must take care of yourself, Moritz. Your health is far more important than Ancient Greek. Now what have you been reading, Melchior?"

"Goethe's _Faust_, Mama." You reply.

"_Faust_? At your age?" Mama's brow crinkles.

"It's so beautiful, Mama." You insist.

"So haunting," Moritz adds, sipping his tea.

She begins to make another protest, but shrugs it off. "Surely you are now of an age where you can decide for yourselves what is good and what is not. If you need anything else, children, call me." She exits the room, quietly closing the door.

"Your mother certainly is remarkable." Moritz says over his teacup.

"Until she catches her son reading Goethe." You snort.

"I think she means the story of Gretchen and her illegitimate child." Moritz offers.

You nod in agreement. "You see how everyone obsesses over that story! It's as if the entire world were mesmerized by penis and vagina!"

"Well I certainly am," Moritz says. "More so since reading your essay. What you wrote… about the female… I can't stop thinking of it!" He yanks the paper out of his pocket. "This part, is it true?" He jabs a finger at a passage.

"Absolutely."

"But how can you know? Melchi, how can you understand what a woman feels?" he asks.

"I just put myself in her place, and _imagine_." You reply simply.

"Really?" Moritz looks at the essay, with awe in his eyes. "What it feels like… for the woman." As he pores over the essay you drink your tea. "It's truly daunting," he says abruptly. "I mean, with the different anatomies… how everything might…" his voice trails off.

"Measure up?" Moritz pales. "_Fit_?" Moritz suddenly looks ill. "Moritz, I'm not saying that I myself have ever…"

"I'm not saying I wouldn't want… Would ever want to not… Would ever not want…" Moritz stutters and jumbles his words together. "I have to go!" Moritz jumps up and flees the room.

"Moritz!" you call after him.

You mother walks into the room. "Melchior, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Mama," you say quickly.

"Has Moritz gone?" You nod. "Well, he did look awfully pale. I wonder, is that _Faust_ really the best thing for him?"

**Diana's POV**

The five of you lie in the grass, staring up at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Thea sits up and turns to the rest of you. "Say, do you ever wonder what Passion would feel like?"

We all sit up.

"My brothers were talking about it. To be in the throes of Passion with the one you love, to touch and be touched!" Thea giggles, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright. "Truly, think of it! Wouldn't it be fantastic?"

"Oh Thea, you shouldn't think like that." Martha warns.

"Don't be silly, Martha! Wouldn't it be grand?" Thea jumps up, spins in a circle, and plops down on her bottom.

"I don't know either, Thea. You shouldn't be eavesdropping on your brothers." Anna said nervously.

"I don't eavesdrop on my brothers." I add. "Then again, my brothers don't like talking to each other." True enough, Hanschen and Rupert hated each other with a fury. Rupert didn't live at the house, but only visited a few times a year. The rest of the year was spent at St. Dominic's Reformatory. And he had ended up there for assaulting and making inappropriate passes at our old maid, Jutte.

"If Passion is such a fantastic thing then why are people sent to reformatories for it?" Wendla seems to read my thoughts.

Thea sighs dramatically. "You're all so _boring_! Really, I'm going to ask my mother about Passion and love."

We gasp. "Thea! You wouldn't!" Knowing Frau Dortmund, she'd probably smack Thea across the face for asking such a brazen question.

"I would!" Thea picks herself up and strides away, across the bridge, and out of sight.

**Little Fact: St. Dominic is the patron saint of juvenille delinquents. :)**

**Leave me reviews! More to come.  
**


	5. Oh, I'm Gonna be Wounded

**Moritz's POV**

Your nightmare has come alive.

Those legs, clad in sky blue stockings, standing mere meters away from you. Your stomach knots, your cheeks burn, your fingers tremble. Your throat clenches. You feel like you can't breathe. You can't hear anything but the musical laughter in her voice.

Diana Rilow's.

Melchior taps you. "What's the matter, Moritz?"

You open and close your mouth soundlessly. You merely gaze at her until Melchior follows your gaze. He thinks for a moment before speaking again. "Well that's ironic."

"Melchi!" you suddenly explode. "That isn't funny!"

"Oh Moritz, I'm just joking. You can't possibly be dreaming of her. Why, Hanschen would kill you if you did!"

'Oh, Melchi,' you think. 'You aren't helping!'

**Diana's POV**

Earlier this morning Thea walked into Sunday School, eyes watering and an angry red welt on her left cheek. She explained to us that she had asked her mother about how babies are made and her mother slapped her.

I can tell we were all biting back, "Well, I told you so."

After leaving baskets of food and clothing for the day-laborers' children, I floated off to the woods. While walking, I encountered none other than Moritz Stiefel. He was sitting beneath a tree, engrossed in some paper.

"Moritz Stiefel?" I asked.

He jumped about ten feet into the air and stuffed the paper into his pocket. "Y-y-yes?" he stammered.

"Fancy meeting you here," I sat next to him.

"Indeed," he replies nervously.

We lapse into silence. I notice his eyes darted back and forth between the ground and my legs.

"What are you looking at?" I questioned.

"N-nothing!" he yelps. "Um, your stockings are an unusual shade of color…"

I looked at them. Sky blue. "Hansi gave them to me. It was a birthday gift. Mother was quite unhappy with the color."

"How kind of your brother," he says a little forcibly.

I laugh. "Of course you certainly don't think Hanschen is capable of being nice. But he just puts on a face for school. He was quite kind to offer to help Ernst Robel with his studies. And he was kind enough not to strangle Rupert in front of my mother."

He nods thoughtfully. "I suppose that's true."

We lapse into silence again. I gaze up at the clouds, looking at the different shapes. Without much thought, I grab Moritz's hand and point towards the sky. "Look, Moritz, doesn't that cloud look like a cat?"

He nods. I lean back against the tree and realize that I'm still holding Moritz's hand, or rather he's still holding mine.

We sit in the quiet for God knows how long. Then in the distance we heard the chiming of church bells. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six… Six!?

"Oh no! Mother is going to kill me!" I jump up.

"Let me walk you home." Moritz immediately offers.

"Oh, thank you, Moritz. You are such a wonderful friend."

We walked down the little path back into the town and Moritz walks me up to my house. I turn around to press a little kiss against his lips. "Thank you, Moritz." Then, I smile and dash into the house before Mother has another thing to scold me about.

**Hanschen's POV**

"I saw that."

Diana scowls at you. "What did you see, dear Brother?"

"I saw you kiss Moritz Stiefel. Really, Sister? Moritz Stiefel?"

"What's wrong with him? I find him pleasant company."

It's your turn to scowl. "I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone in your class. Melchior Gabor is a self-righteous prick. Otto Lammermier is a mama's boy. Georg Zirschnitz is a teacher's pet. Ernst Robel is already a pious old man, although you seem to tolerate him. Moritz Stiefel is a slacker." She places a hand over her heart. "But you? Perfect in every sense of the word. You're awfully biased, Brother. Not everyone can be like you."

Your scowl deepens. "I don't want you involved with him."

"You can't boss me around! I can be involved with him if I want to!" she shouts. "Unless you'd rather I run off with Melchior Gabor."

You slap her across the face. Not very hard, but hard enough to make her stop talking. "If you get yourself involved with Melchior Gabor, or you continue fraternizing with Moritz Stiefel, people will start talking. Do you remember Ilse Neumann? That's how you'll end up if you continue this. You'll be a cheap whore running around in the Artist's Colony!"

"Don't you say those things about Ilse! She was a wonderful friend to Wendla and to all of us. Rumors are exaggerated."

"Not about her they aren't. People have seen her running around wearing only a man's shirt. With no shoes or stockings! Do you want to cheapen yourself to that level?"

"Just because I had a conversation with him and I gave him a kiss of thanks doesn't make me a prostitute!" There are tears clinging to Diana's eyelashes.

"People already talk about you, Diana. People talk about Rupert too. Do you want to shame this family further with your antics?" You ask her.

"What are people saying about me?" She demands.

"People say you're a bastard child. How else are you so dark when the rest of us," (meaning yourself, Rupert, your sister Karina, Mother, and Father) "are blonde? Explain it, Sister."

Tears are running down her cheeks now. "I don't know. And I don't give a fig if I shame this family's name. Rupert's done that enough."

You shrug. "Boys are expected to misbehave somewhat. Only aspiring pastors like Ernst are expected to be the best. But girls are supposed to be perfect and thoughtless… like dolls. Dolls who think too much of themselves and become human are silenced, like Ilse. Boys who act out too much are lost to reform, like Rupert. That's why you walk the thin and narrow, like me."

"I hate you!" Diana suddenly explodes. "I hate you and your goddamn ideologies! I'd rather be a fallen woman than be a doll."

And with that, Diana strides out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

**More to come. :)**


	6. Heaven Must Feel Like This!

**Ernst's POV**

"Look! There he is!" Otto points at a running figure in the distance.

Moritz runs up to you and the others, out of breath.

"Did you get caught?" Hanschen asks, sounding like he hopes Moritz did.

"No," Moritz pants. "Thank God."

"But you're trembling." You point out.

"For joy! For pure and certain joy!"

"Cross your heart?" Georg asks skeptically.

"Twice over!" Moritz exclaims.

Melchior, hearing the noise, walks over. "Moritz, I've been looking for you."

"He snuck into the headmaster's office." Georg explained.

"Moritz, what were you thinking?" Melchior exclaims.

"I wasn't Melchi, I just had to. And the good news is: I passed!"

"The middle terms," Hanschen added. As if Melchior didn't know.

"Yes, everything will now be determined by the final exams. Still, I know I passed. Oh! Truly, truly, Heaven must feel like this!" Moritz launches himself into Melchior's arms and the two friends hug. Moritz proceeds to hug everyone else, well, except Hanschen.

Although you're happy that means that either you or Moritz will have to fail and not be promoted, given you're both at the bottom of the class.

Your father asks what on earth that Hanschen Rilow could be teaching you, considering your grades haven't improved. You stutter that you have trouble remembering things.

At least you still have the chance to be promoted. A slim chance, but a chance regardless.

**Moritz's POV**

Ever since that night when Diana kissed you, those awful dreams haven't haunted you. Though you still have them they don't terrify you anymore. You understand. And whenever you are afraid you just concentrate of the wave of Diana's dark mane, or the feel of her hand holding yours, or the touch of her lips against your own. Her presence calms you.

Unfortunately her brother doesn't want you anywhere near her.

"You stay away from my little sister." His voice is thunderous, his face stormy.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Hanschen." You reply, though nervously.

He grabs you by the lapel of your blazer. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! How dare you fool around with my little sister!"

"I'm not fooling around!" You cry out without thinking. "Hanschen, I care about her!"

He shoves you away, looking disgusted. "And there's only one thing you'd want from her."

Your insides freeze. Melchior explained to you the whole thing about a woman's virginity and how a man breaks it when they… come together. You've never even given that a thought. You'd never do that to Diana.

"I bet you've given that a good thought!" You shout after him without considering the consequences.

He whirls around, looking murderous, and tackles you. The force of his weight knocks the wind out of you and he pins you to the ground. His fists fly and smash into you face and shoulders. You flail back, trying to block him desperately. Your legs lash out and you can hear him grunt in pain when you get a lucky shot between his legs. Then his fist connects with your forehead and you cry out in pain. Then in a frenzy of shouts and legs someone pries Hanschen off of you and Ernst is pulling you to your feet. You're dizzy and stars flicker in your vision. You sway, leaning on Ernst for support. Otto, Georg, and Melchior are holding back Hanschen, who looks like he isn't finished beating the daylights out of you. Herr Sonnenstich and Herr Knockenbruch drag Hanschen into the headmaster's office and somehow, Diana materializes and offers to take care of you.

"How'd you get here?" you slur.

"Hanschen was going to walk me home. He was late so I came here. I'm sorry, Moritz." She carefully wets a handkerchief and wipes the blood and dirt off your face. Ernst brings her bandages from the school doctor and she carefully bandages the bruises and cuts. Then, when no one is looking she carefully kisses each bruise and cut and finally your lips. You kiss back before she pulls away.

"I'm sorry for his behavior. Why did he do this?" She holds you hand in her small fist.

"He accused me of…" How could you put this? "He accused me of thinking ungentlemanly things about you. And I told him he's the one thinking unbecoming things of females, without thinking much. And this is the consequence of speaking out."

Diana nods. "Of Moritz, my brother is a silly watchdog. Rupert never had any respect for women, and he never will. Hanschen detests him for that. He thinks he's the only one who can defend me and Karina. He's only being protective."

"I understand, Diana." You squeeze her hand gently.

She kisses you again and despite your pains from the brawl, you can feel a little closer to Heaven.

**Ernst's POV**

Hanschen is still in a dark mood when you meet him to study. The vineyard behind the Church is a small comfort for you: always constant; nothing changing.

"Are you alright?" you timidly ask Hanschen.

"Yes. I need to stay after class and help Knockenbruch sort through files all week, but," he shrugged. "It could be worse."

You nod.

"So, what do you need help with this time?"

"Latin," you reply, opening your book and taking out your slate.

Hanschen scoots closer to you and says the words slowly for you. His lips are so close to your ears. His breath tickles your thin sideburns. Your whole body blushes. "_Litora… multum… ille… et terris…_" He says each word slowly. He rests his hand on your thigh; his fingers demurely stroke the inside. Your breath hitches. His tongue darts out and carefully licks your earlobe. You gasp loudly.

He pulls away, looking perfectly innocent. "What's the matter, Ernst? You look rather feverish."

Your mouth hangs open. _You did this to me!_ you long to scream at him. But you bite your lower lip to keep from speaking.

After you finish studying (and Hanschen finishes tormenting you) you walk home slowly. Despite the intense embarrassment and shame that came from Hanschen's ministrations… they felt good. It was almost… heavenly. Was that sinful? The Bible said it was. You close your eyes. '_Oh, please Lord, don't make me a Sodomite. Don't let me have these feelings. Amen._'

Somehow God will answer you.

**Poor Ernstie, Hanschen is toying with his feelings. More to come!**


	7. I've Never Felt Anything

**Wow... I haven't updated in months. So this is chapter 7!**

**Diana's POV**

"Shall we take the short way home?" Anna asked as we walked home.

"No, no. By the bridge." Thea replied.

"After two hours marching with that medicine ball?" Wendla asked incredulously.

"Come on!" Thea begged.

"Someone wants to see: has Melchi Gabor taken a raft out?" Anna teased.

Thea stepped forward. "Last one there has to hold hands with _Hanschen_!"

In a chorus of giggles and 'Eews!" we rush toward the bridge.

"Careful, Martha, your braid's coming loose." I warn.

Martha stops. "No," she says beginning to retie it.

"Just let it. Isn't it a nuisance for you, day and night? You may not cut it short, you may not wear it down…" Thea says.

"Tomorrow I'm bringing scissors!" Wendla announces.

"For God's sake, Wendla, no! Papa beats me enough as it is." Martha shouts at her.

"Really?" Wendla asks.

"No, no, it's nothing." Martha stammers.

"Martha?" we ask.

"Martha, we're your friends." Anna takes Martha's hands in her own.

"Well, when I don't do as he likes…" Martha begins.

"What?" Anna prods.

"Some nights, Papa yanks out his belt."

"But where is your mama?" Thea asks, stricken.

Martha draws herself up and imitates her mother. "'We have rules in this house. Your father will not be disobeyed.' The other night, I ran for the door." Martha's voice hardens as she mimics her father's harsh voice. "'Out the door? Alright, I like that. That's where you'll spend the night – out on the street!'"

"No!" we gasp.

"It was so cold."

"He beats you with a belt?" Wendla asks.

Martha nods.

"With a buckle?"

Martha slowly rolls up her sleeve revealing an ugly purple bruise.

"Oh my God!" I cry.

"Martha, the welts… they're terrible!" Wendla exclaims.

"We must tell someone." Anna says.

"Anna, no!" Martha protests.

"But we must…" Anna says.

"No, no, please. They'd throw me out for good." Martha begs.

"Like what happened to Ilse, you mean." Thea says.

"Remember!" Wendla says.

"But…" Anna seems to wilt.

"Anna, no. Just look at what's become of Ilse now. Living who knows where with who knows who!" Martha says. The utter degradation of Ilse's circumstance are making her want to live with her abusive father.

"I wish I could go through it for you." Wendla says.

"My Uncle Klaus says if you don't discipline a child you don't love it." Thea says.

"That must be true." Martha sighs.

"My father certainly believes that." I say. I remembered Hanschen slapping me. Sometimes Father hits Hanschen. I guess it runs in families.

"When I have children I'll let them be free. They'll grow strong and tall." Anna says.

"Free?" Thea asks. "But how will we let them be free if our parents don't tell us?"

We ponder this.

"Well, perhaps we'd just know. Maybe our parents think that beating their children is the right way to raise them. Maybe by the time we are parents we'll think differently." I offer.

"Yes, I think you're right." Anna says. She squeezes Martha's hands.

After a while I notice that Wendla has disappeared.

* * *

The next day I end up wandering in the woods again. Moritz is there, curled up in a ball, looking very unhappy.

"What's the matter, _liebchen_?" I asked taking his hands.

"I failed." He said miserably. "I failed."

"But I thought you passed!" I exclaimed.

"I passed the middle terms. But I failed the finals." He began weeping. "I studied so hard."

I wrapped my arms around his sobbing frame. He buried his head in the crook of my neck. I felt his tears sliding down my skin. His hand reached out and ended up atop my breast. If it were anyone else I would have slapped his hand away. But it was Moritz, and I trusted him.

He pulled away to kiss my cheek gently. "I love you, Diana. But I have to go. I have to tell my father I failed."

"I wish I could know how you felt." I said.

Moritz shook his head. "No, you don't."

**Moritz's POV**

I took a deep breath as I walked into the sitting room. Father was sitting in his chair reading a book. "Father?"

"Moritz," he looked up. "Yes?"

I started to stutter. "Well, I, uh, was wondering, you know hypothetically speaking, what would happen if…"

"If?" my father prompted me.

"If one day I, uh, failed. Not that…"

He cuts me off, furiously. "You're saying you failed?"

"No! I only meant…" I try to explain.

"You've failed, haven't you? I can see it on your face."

"Father…"

He slaps me angrily. "Well," he says disgustedly. "It's finally come to this. I guess I'm not surprised. My son a failure. So what are your mother and I supposed to do? You tell me, Son. What? How can your mother show her face at the Missionary Society? What do I say at the Bank? How do we go to Church? Failed." He shakes his head. "Thank God my father never lived to see this day."

I stumble out of the room and dash into my room. I blindly grab for a pen and paper. "Dear Frau Gabor…"

**I promise not to take so long to update!**


	8. And Then There Were None

**Short chapter!**

**Moritz's POV**

If I ever thought that Frau Gabor could be cruel, than I know now for sure she is. My letter was replied to.

"_Dear Herr Stiefel… Moritz_," she wrote. "_I've spent the entire day thinking about your note. Truly, it touched me, it did, that you'd think of me as a friend. Of course, I was saddened to hear that your exams came off rather less well than you'd hoped, and that you will not be promoted, come fall.__And, yet, I must say straightaway that fleeing to America is hardly the solution and, even if it were, I cannot provide the money you request…_"

Well I guess writing wasn't worth it. She's already rejected me.

"_You would do me wrong, Herr Stiefel to read into my refusal any lack of affection. On the contrary, as Melchior's mother, I truly believe it to be my duty to curb this momentary loss…_"

Momentary loss? My father's kicked me out and I'm not going back to school. Is that a momentary loss to you? All I need is some money for a ship to America. The Gabors aren't poor. Is that so much to ask?

"_Should you like, I am ready to write your parents. I will try to convince them that no one could've worked harder last semester and also that too rigorous a condemnation of your current misfortune could have the gravest possible effect on…_"

The absolute absurdity of her words makes me want to laugh. She wants to write to my parents? Go ahead! They won't listen! I'm an embarrassment! I'm a failure! Humor me, Frau Gabor…

"_Still, Herr Stiefel, one thing in your letter disturbed me. Your – what shall we call it? – _veiled threat_ that should escape not be possible you would take your own life…_"

Oh, so now she's gone back to caring.

"_My dear boy, the world is filled with men – businessmen, scientists, scholars even who have done rather poorly in school and yet, gone on to brilliant careers. Consider for example our friend..._"

I can't go home. I don't have a home anymore. I tried. If I disappear no one would ever know. No one would even care.

"_In any case, I assure you that your present misfortune will have no effect on my feelings for you or, on your relationship with Melchior…_"

I'm not worried about my relationship with Melchior. I feel like just caving to all this pressure and giving up. I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes but I wipe them away.

"_So, head high, Herr Stiefel! And do let me hear from you soon. In the meantime, I am unchangingly, and most fondly yours, Fanny Gabor._"

I start tearing her letter to pieces. "Fuck it!" I shout. "I give up! That's it! I'll go on a little bit. Day after day of utter _shit_!" I pull my father's silver pistol out of my pocket. The gun weighs heavily in my hand. I gaze at myself in its shiny reflection. "And then there were none."

**Ohmygod foreshadowing!!! **


	9. I Believe, I Believe, I Believe

**An update at last!**

**Diana's POV**

"Have any of you seen Moritz Stiefel?" the choir teacher asks us. We're preparing for our Michaelmas chorale. Moritz has been missing all day. I'm worried. I hope that Moritz wouldn't do anything bad to himself. The thought gives me gooseflesh all along my arms.

"No, ma'am." We reply.

She nods and waddles away.

"She's ugly." Thea says.

We giggle and I feel a little better. I see Wendla about to slip out of the Church. I follow her. "Wendla!"

She looks at me. "Yes, Diana?"

"Where are you going?"

"Well," she holds up a black leather journal. "I have Melchior Gabor's journal and I want to return it to him."

"Why do you have his journal?"

"Do you remember when Martha told us about her father? Well, I saw Melchior in the woods and asked him to hit me with a branch I found. He didn't want to but I made him. Something happened and he hurt me very badly. He left his journal behind. I want to return it and apologize." Wendla explained.

"Wendla, why do you want to be beaten? My father beats both of my brothers and my mother and sometimes Hanschen strikes me. No one wants to feel that." I stare at her.

"But I had to know! Diana, no one has ever hit me. I had to know what it was like for Martha and for anyone else." Wendla sighs. "I suppose you're going to look for Moritz?"

I nod. "I am. Good luck finding Melchior."

"You too."

* * *

"Moritz!"

Moritz is in the woods again. He's curled up again and he looks up at me like a pathetic, kicked puppy. He pulls me into his arms and tearfully explains his situation. He also tells me about Frau Gabor's letter. He looks up at me. "I'm all alone, Di."

I wipe away one of his tears. "Don't cry, my love. I'm right here."

He buries his face in the crook of my neck again. I kiss the top of his head. He gently places his hand over my breast again.

My breath hitches. "Moritz, wait."

**Ernst's POV**

"Well," I say to Hanschen shyly. "It seems Moritz Stiefel, Wendla Bergman, and your sister have all deserted choir."

Hanschen scowls. "I hope wherever Diana is she isn't with _him_."

"I don't think they'd do anything wrong together." I say.

He gives me an appraising look. "You are so very innocent, Ernst."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, slightly offended.

He merely shakes his head. "It's nothing. Do you need me to help you with anything?"

"Yes, I need to maintain my lessons better. Because Moritz failed I'm being promoted but I can't take any chances." I replied.

He nods simply. "After practice we'll go to vineyard and study, like always." He looks out on of the Church windows. "Or perhaps not since it looks ready to rain."

"It does, doesn't it?" I murmur.

**Moritz's POV**

I'm not sure how I ended up laying on top of Diana, but I am. The front of her dress is unbuttoned revealing the white shift dress underneath. My shirt is discarded and she's lying on it. Her hair is fanned out behind her. Diana is a goddess. She's my goddess.

I lean down to kiss her soft lips. I feel her hands rubbing my back. There's an ache between my legs, but I try to ignore it. I pull her closer and she squeaks into my mouth suddenly. She pushes me away slightly and looks at me with fear-filled eyes.

"Moritz, this isn't right. We aren't married!" she protests. "It's not right! It's sinful!"

"When have you cared about sin?" I ask. "We love each other!"

"I know we do, but now is not the time for this." She looks up at me. "You're upset. You could regret this later."

"But I won't." I tell her. I kiss her and my fingers fumble to unbutton the buttons of her shift. The buttons pop open and reveal her pale, milky skin and small girlish breasts. She doesn't look embarrassed as she meets my gaze.

As I kiss her I can feel myself undoing my pants. As I touch her, I try to remember Melchior's essay and where her body is most sensitive. But the essay escapes my mind as she begins to tell me how heavenly this makes her feel. It feels like an instinct as I lower my pants and penetrate her. Her cry rings through the air.

"Moritz!" she gasps. "I love you! _Oh!_"

_"There is love in heaven, all will be forgiven. I believe." _

**Leave me reviews! They is love!**


	10. The Aftermath

I am so sorry I have not updated this since God invented dirt. But ever since I found out the 2nd nation tour of SA is going to be playing near where I live and I might be able to see it I have been inspired to finish what I started.

By the way, if I owned Spring Awakening it would not have closed, Moritz would not have committed suicide, and Diana would be a real character and I would be playing her.

This chapter is entitled 'The Aftermath' because it covers 'The Guilty Ones', 'Don't Do Sadness/Blue Wind', 'Left Behind', and 'Totally Fucked.' I felt this all fit together because these first four scenes are the aftermath of 'I Believe' and Moritz's suicide.

Enjoy and sorry for the long wait!

**Diana's POV**

I understand the story of the woman who woke without the man she slept with. Moritz is gone. Without a trace. Tears drip down my cheeks. I fix my dress and stand up. My body feels empty and hollow. Like the past few hours were only a dream. Maybe they were.

But they weren't a dream. I knew they weren't. Guilt fills my body as I walk slowly to the Church. I sit outside in the open air. I can still hear old Father Kaulbach's voice from inside though.

"In what ways have we cloaked and hidden even from ourselves the secret bargains we have made with our own devils?" he asks the congregation. I stand up and leave, not wanting to hear any more.

**Moritz's POV**

As twilight falls over the river I gaze out at the sky. What had I done to Diana? How could I have so selfishly hurt her? I felt guilty and sad. As I pace I pull my father's gun out of my pocket. The cold metal is strangely warm and inviting. One twitch of the finger and no more pain. I realized I was just sick of being sad. I was tired of doing sadness. I didn't need that kind of depression in my life. I didn't want to do it anymore. I held up the gun, and pointed it at myself. I was about to pull the trigger when I heard a female voice: "Moritz Stiefel?"

I quickly shoved the gun into my pocket. "Ilse?" I asked, bewildered. "You frightened me."

"What are you looking for?" Ilse is dressed only in a man's white shirt. She's clutching a bunch of flowers in her hands. Her hair is loose and tangled. So unrefined. So wild. So, what did she call them…? Bohemian!

"If only I knew," I replied. "Where have you been keeping yourself?"

"Priapia," Ilse replied brightly. "The Artist's Colony. And all the old buggers who live there! All they want to do is dress me up and paint me." She begins telling me about the various men she has stayed with. And how one even tried to kill her. She seems to not care what I might think about her escapades.

"What about Moritz? Still in school?" she returns her attention to me.

"This semester I'm through."

She doesn't seem to hear and begins reminiscing about the past, when we, Melchior, and Wendla Bergman would play pirates together.

I try to leave but Ilse bids me I walk her home. "We'll dig up those old tomahawks and play together! Then I'll brush and curl your hair and then set you on my little hobby horse…"

"I wish I could."

Ilse looks hurt. "Then why don't you?" I lie about homework and bid her farewell. After a little back and forth arguing she finally says: "By the time you wake up I'll be lying in some trash heap," and disappears.

"Oh for the love of God all I had to do was say yes…" I bemoan. "Ilse! Ilse!" I look up towards the sky. "So, what will I say? I'll tell the angels I got drunk in the snow, sang, and played pirates. I'm ready now. I'll be an angel." I pull out the gun. "Only ten minutes ago you could see the entire horizon. Now only the dusk and the first few stars. It's dark. So dark." You put the gun in your mouth and cock the hammer.

The metal tastes cold and real. Like life. Like pain. I quietly bid goodbye my life and pull the trigger.

One pull and it's all darkness.

**Melchior's POV**

The rain is coming down in buckets. It's cold. Herr Stiefel is standing beside Moritz's open grave. Your mother drops a single flower into the grave. A procession of friends and their parents follows her. Diana Rilow looks like a nightmare. Her skin is even paler than usual. There are dark circles under her red, bloodshot eyes. She looks tiny next to Hänschen and her sister. Her parents look stoic and imposing. The Rilows don't like the Stiefels. It's common knowledge. But Diana loved him. Didn't she? You wish you knew what had gone through Moritz's mind when he took his life. In ending his own pain he caused everyone else pain.

As the procession continues you can't help but think about Moritz's relationship with father. It was awkward and forced. Herr Stiefel ignored his struggling son as Moritz stumbled and fell, cried and hurt, loved and hoped, and grew up.

Moritz was left behind. As you drop the final flower before Martha and Ilse and Diana fill the rest of the grave, you see Herr Stiefel collapse in grief. "That boy wasn't mine," he weeps.

You yearn for your friend.

**Diana's POV**

How could he do this?

No, I can't blame him. Think of what he endured. Failing, being rejected by his father, and being so alone and sad. None of us helped him.

Is it possible for the human heart to hurt so much? As Martha, Ilse, and I filled the remainder of the grave, Ilse showed us the gun that Moritz used to take his life. "I'm keeping it as a souvenir." Ilse announced. I stare at the hateful object. I had the mind to seize it and kill myself to be with Moritz. If only I could!

After the undertakers shut the grave, Ilse pressed a piece of paper into my hands. "It's a letter for you. Moritz wrote it." Ilse explained. "I'm sorry Diana."

I tucked the letter into my skirt. I found myself hiding behind the Church, kneeling in the wet, cold mud and crying. I didn't care if my skirts were now filthy or that such public displays of emotion for someone you weren't supposed to know are inappropriate. How can I care what people will think? I gave myself to this boy. I loved him, cherished him, and held him dear in my heart. And now he's gone and I'll never hold him again.

I sense someone near me. Hänschen kneels by my side and wraps him arms around me. I sob louder and harder. "Hänsi," I moan. "I loved him. Oh, Hänsi, I loved him!"

**Melchior's POV**

The next morning at school, I was called into Herr Knochenbruch's office. He flashed my essay in front of my face and announced Herr Stiefel found it among Moritz's possessions. The headmaster announced the essay morally corrupt, depraved, atheistic, and obscene.

"Now, you will answer with a quick 'yes' or 'no.' Melchior Gabor, did you write this?"

Well I'm certainly fucked. I can kiss my sorry ass good-bye then. They're trying to mess me up, or at least.

"Yes!"

And so they expelled me.

I'm totally fucked. But blaa, blaa, blaa, blaa, blaa, blaa, blaa.

**I promise the next wait will not be so long. Please review! Love, Fir.**


End file.
